


(Even if it's) Just For Tonight

by theoverthinker (orphan_account)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 01:18:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/theoverthinker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt and Claire have terrific chemistry. By each second they spend together, they grow more comfortable and more loving with one another. </p><p>But the Devil of Hell's Kitchen has a job to do. And he isn't so sure that having someone as wonderful as Claire by his side will be the wisest decision in such a dangerous and confusing time.</p><p>Claire isn't even sure of exactly what she wants.</p><p>What the two of them do know, is that they have now. They can worry about the future, or a lack thereof, later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Even if it's) Just For Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> For my "Best Damn Avocados"! 
> 
> I am not a fiction writer primarily. I enjoy critical pieces, essays, and poetry. As an English student however, I want to polish my writer in all categories. Fanfiction is something that helps me practice writing stories. I haven't written a fic in a very long time, so keep that in mind, and don't go to hard on me! 
> 
> Enjoy the smut, guys. xoxo
> 
> *****ALSO******* In the first few paragraphs, I have referenced the comic series "The Man Without Fear" by Frank Miller and John Romita Jr. It was published in 1993. The woman referenced in the first few paragraphs is Elektra Natchios. The lines "...one last moment of hungry fire." and "I was a young man once again punished. For letting his wild part run free." are directly quoted from issue #3 of The Man Without Fear.

I don’t want to miss a single beat of your heart, Claire.

It’s been a while since I’ve let myself become close to anyone. Except for Foggy and perhaps now Karen, I haven’t even had any friend in constancy since Law School. It has been so long since I have let myself go like this.

There was a woman once. I fell for her ferocity, for her feline like nature. I let her encompass me in her warmth; in the burning flush of her cheeks against mine.  She had a spirit of rebellion and adventure that encouraged a dying fire inside of me.

It wasn’t long after I had decided that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her that she needed to leave.

We waited for her plane together. We held one another. We shared one last moment of hungry fire. I thought our embrace could melt the winter that swirled around us…and she was gone. I was a young man once again punished. For letting his wild part run free.

Her tears left scars on my lips. But they healed, nevertheless.

It has been such a long time, Claire, since I have craved anything like I crave your heartbeat.  When I am near you, I feel like I’m being pulled towards you, and to fight the urge would shatter me into a trillion broken pieces.

I want to be close to you in every way. I want to protect you from the world. You know what I do, and I don’t know if I can keep you safe if I keep you close to me.

There is so much danger in by my side in Hell’s Kitchen. There is so much conflict in each of our hearts. There is so much that needs to be talked about. There is so much that I know will not happen, between us.

And yet, I want every breath you exhale to mingle with my own, tonight.  I want your body pressed up against mine so that we forget where our own limbs end and where one another’s begin. I want our hearts to beat as one, even if it is _just for tonight._

And I know you want that too, Claire. I can hear your heart beat now.

And it’s just up against my own, now.

And I am ready for this now, even if it is just for tonight. 

 

* * *

 

 

That kiss we shared in my kitchen was like a flame. You were so tender and wounded and I was so ashamed, Claire, that you’d been so hurt under my watch. I knew I shouldn’t have held your neck and tasted your lips like I did. I knew that only more desire could come from entering your mouth and taking your tongue between my lips and breathing you in like fresh life and yet I knew that I couldn’t resist you any longer.

I wish I could see you lying in front of me right now. Your naked body pressed along the right side of my bed. I know you are smiling. I could lose myself in the sight of your lush brown skin and the plush of your breasts fallen flat against your body. Although tonight I am partially grateful for my blindness; I am sure that I would break in the sight of your yellowing bruises and that little scar above your eye.

I won’t play music. I never listen to music while I am doing something else. It’s distracting; the only thing that I want to fill my senses is you. Nothing else matters to me right now, except for you.

As I undress beside you I can hear you utter my name in such a sweet and delicate hush. You lie so patiently and peacefully. To me, your whisper is like the shriek of a siren. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage with a dangerous mixture of fear and desire, and it is hungry for me. And how like an angel you lie in front of me, yet.

I toss my clothes aside eagerly and they pound against the carpet.  I climb in beside you move toward you, not yet to touch you, but just to hover above you propped on my shoulders and breathe in your scent. My heart is pounding.

Your hair smells of pomegranates and mint. Your light, excited breaths taste like pumpkin seeds and coffee. You’re wearing perfume; it’s _Boudoir_ by Vivienne Westwood. It is so classy, and so sexy. I breathe out a heavy sigh. You are incredible, Claire.

Before I touch you, I ask for your permission. I dip my head down beside your cheek and I whisper my request. You shudder out a broken yes. I can hear the strain in your voice and your heart pumping ever faster, still.

 I say _“thank you”._

I say _“I will take care of you.”_

 

* * *

 

 

You laugh with anticipation and delight. The sound fills me with warmth and comfort and glee. You make me feel as happy as a child; _another_ child. I was never what one would call “happy” or “comfortable” as a child. But I am not looking for sympathy. Just correcting a faulty analogy.

When we press our bodies together for the first time you whimper. For a second, I wonder if I have hurt you. The last thing I want in the world is for you to hurt. If your bruises are still sore, we can stop. Your bones sound healthy. “ _We can stop, if you want_ ” I keep thinking.

You eliminate my worry when you bring your mouth against mine, in a hot entanglement of tongue and teeth, much more fierce and excited than the last time. You wet my lips with long and sensual sucks and kisses. I move my hands to your hips and I grip you gently.

I begin to rub my body against yours, slowly. You pull your lips from mine to catch your breath and you whine for me.  

_“You’re suave and you’re careful and I like that but I can take it babe I’m not a flower I can take it.”_

You sound like you are begging. You needn’t beg. I will do anything for you, Claire.

I want to do anything for you.

“ _I am ok, Matt. I want you.”_

Your breasts feel hard and swollen underneath me; you are desperate to be touched more. I feel that too. I can’t wait any longer to taste you. I dip my head down and wrap my lips around your left nipple. I swirl my tongue around it. I press my thumb to your navel. I just want to touch your stomach. I love your stomach. Our legs intertwine together. You are so soft.

God, Claire. You taste amazing. Your body is incredible. Why do you want this from me, of all people? I am a blind and overzealous wannabe vigilante who hops around Hell’s Kitchen in a mysterious (ridiculous) black suit.

_“Fuck, yes. Matt, please, you’re so gorgeous. I wish you could see yourself. You’re-fuck, yes-You’re in…credible.”_

I don’t know exactly what I look like. I have a general idea, from feeling my own facial features in my hands. I have been called handsome and lovely by my friends. But I never quite care to hear it. It doesn’t matter to me very much.

When you call me gorgeous, I shudder. My thoughts are wild.

“ _God, yes, thank you. Thank you, thank you Claire. ThankyousomuchClaire. You’re amazing-you’reamazingClaire”_

You’re filling me with warmth. It matters to me that I am gorgeous to you. It matters to me that I matter to you. I _believe_ you Claire. I belong here with you, I know I do. You’re special to me Claire, you’re special and I want to keep you. I know I can’t keep you. I know this will not last. _Please let this last._

I am so hot for you Claire. I am so fucking ready for you. I need to take it slow.

Tonight, you’ve chosen to make love to me. I am a train wreck, and yet, here you are, underneath me and panting with desire. I want to hold you as close to me as possible, and remember the feeling of your skin against mine. I want to taste every inch of your body. I want to feel like we are one, together. I don’t want to miss a minute that we could have had together in a succumbing to the readiness of our bodies. I want this to last.

I try to distract myself from the swelling between my legs and pull my head up from your breasts to your cheek. I kiss you there, just along your jawline. I trace little bites and nibbles and across your skin. I can feel you giggling beneath me.

You breathe out, and I can hear the smile in your voice.

“Matt, I _love_ this, Matt.”

“I love this too, fuck, Claire I love it so much, too.”

We laugh together. We are so happy. Our breathing is so heavy.

I take your bottom lip in between my own and suck a hard kiss down on it. Then I lean up, and suck my index finger. You take my hand and pull it down to your mouth. You suck on each of my fingers, one by one. I know you are looking directly into my eyes.

“Claire,” I pant. “Don’t they bother you Claire; my eyes? They don’t focus on you, Claire.”

There is still a smile in your voice. You want to remedy my worry.

 _“You would-sigh-never bother me. I feel like we’re connected. Iwanttobeconnectedtoyou.”_ You burst with a long wind of breath.

“ _I love that.”_ I sigh.

I touch you then. You gasp, when I come in contact with the sensitive skin of your labia. I rub you a little higher, and you breathe and sigh and cry out in little whimpers. _Wow._

“You’re good at this you’re fucksogoodatthis you’re sososo good at this” you breathe out, a little hoarsely.

“ _I know.”_ I growl.

I slide my body downward. Every sensitive piece of me rubs against you then, and God, Claire, I am so weak with pleasure for you. I know that I won’t last if I give in. I need to take it slow. _I need to take it slow. I need to feel every inch of you._

I replace my fingers with my mouth, and I begin to suck at your clitoris. You cry out, and then you giggle. The sounds you make are gorgeous. I’m not sure I can take another minute of your beautiful voice without my insides collapsing, without fainting. I wonder if I am going to cry. That would be embarrassing. I am so dramatic, and this is just so perfect. I’ve always been a crier. I’m _not_ going to fucking cry. You’ll laugh at me. I’d give anything to hear that spectacular laugh, though.

I swirl my tongue around and inside the most sensitive parts of your vagina. I hold your legs around my head, and I let the sensation of your wetness and your body clamped so tightly around me fill me up. Your fingers feel like petals in my hair; your pleasure pricks me like rose thorns.

 _“Let me taste you, now.”_ you breathe. Not a question.

You sit up and pull my lips to your own. You press a little peck to my nose and then my lower lip, which you take in your mouth and suck. Then, you urge me to move off of you. Then, you I am under you.

I am so ready. I know what you’re going to do now.

You press your body between my legs and slide down my torso, grinding against my most sensitive places. I gasp for you, over and over.

Your lips are right above my navel now. You hover near my cock, and you press your fingers lightly against it.

 _“This ok?”_ you ask me.

 _“It’sperfectitisperfecti love itnow I love itnow.”_ I beg you, a desperate mouthful of unintelligent mumbling.

When you take me inside of your mouth my world is on fire. If I could see, I would see stars. I would see galaxies, swirling and dancing catastrophically.

How did I manage to find you? You’re perfect. So stunning and so perfect. You even use your teeth you dirty thing you _devil-_

“ _Ah Claire fuckfuckfuck……fuck”_ I cry out. Loudly. So much for keeping my cool.

My super-senses are such a blessing when it comes to sex. I can feel you smiling around me. I can’t last much longer. You laugh, and you let me go.

In a swift second you’ve abandoned me to fetch a condom. I point weakly to the side drawer. I touch myself just a little-a pool of pre-cum coats the pad of my thumb and I squirm for your return.

And then you’re on top of me, holding my member in your hands, squeezing the little red thing on me. I grip your ass and I mumble your name.

Now I am inside of you. You feel tight and warm and wet around me and I sigh when I imagine your expression in my mind. I wish I could see you right now, you’re riding on top of me, you’re _dirty_ you’re _my little devil._

I reach up to touch your face, as you rut against my pelvis. I touch your mouth and your cheeks weakly with my shaking hands.

_“You are so terrifically beautiful, Claire.”_

Your eyelash brushes against my hand as you shut your eyes. I commit the delicate sensation to memory. I let my hands fall to your hips, and I grip you.

We are both shouting perhaps just a little too loudly now, and I have your skin in my hands, and you have your hands on my chest and you are rubbing your thumbs across my nipples and _I love that so much_ and you are moving fast and hot against me and I’m not sure how much long I can take it and we move together desperately until I am so close and _finally_ I am _bursting_ with a jolt of electricity through my body.

It is not just the orgasm that makes me cry your name; broken and raspy and exhausted and loud. _Very loud._  It is the affection and pleasure, the closeness and relief that you give me.  You are like no one else, Claire. I want you to be mine.

I've fallen for you. I've fallen so hard for you.

Not a few seconds after, you have come too, and you gasp, and then you are laughing so loudly, so magnificently.

 _“For a lack of vision you certainly do compensate with your sense of touch, Matt!”_ You giggle.

I cannot help but simply let my head fall back against my pillow, and smile up at you in this perfect moment. I let your voice fill my mind like an orchestra of bells.

You fall against me, and we fit together perfectly. I rather adore the feeling of you on top of me. You feel plush and warm. You seem so…comfortable…content...relaxed. You trust me.

I trust you too, Claire.

I lean my lips up toward your ear, and drag a delicate kiss over your neck. I give your earlobe a little suck. I press my lips against your ear.

And I whisper. Hoarsely and gently and I whisper a lot of things. I am not even sure what I tell you anymore…sweet nothings, probably.  I know I will probably not get another chance, and if I do, it will be the last.

You sigh, and we lie together, and we fall asleep.

* * *

 

In the morning, when I wake, you press a kiss to my jaw.

 _“Hello.”_ I mutter.

You sigh.

_“As for what you said last night. I understand how hard it is for you to stop falling in love with me. Let’s not dwell on why we can’t. Let us just have what we can for as long as we can, and be happy.”_

My shoulders fall.

You wraps your arms around me. I wish I could live in the now, with you, forever. But I cannot, and it kills me. I begin to shake.

You squeeze me, press a kiss to my cheek, and you fall back against the mattress. I can sense your smile.

Claire, you are the wiser one. I could learn from you.

 


End file.
